


Change Of Heart

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, M/M, Set during the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-02
Updated: 2007-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter is captured, Draco soon realises that revenge doesn't taste quite as sweet as he thought it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change Of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** AU. Mild - mostly implied - violence. Flangst. Fluff.  
> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

A tall, thin figure dressed in black hurries into the room, bows respectfully, and announces, "They’ve captured him, Sir.” 

The young man seated behind the desk doesn’t look up from his reading material. “Captured whom?” he asks, but he can't be bothered to feign any real interest. 

“Harry Potter, Master Malfoy.” 

Two grey eyes widen, and in his bewilderment, Draco almost knocks over his jug of tea. He knows he should be on top of the world now, feel immensely relieved, if not victorious. 

Instead, he’s overcome with a regret so deep, strong and utterly overwhelming it almost floors him, though he can’t - not for the life of him - comprehend why.

* * *

That night, Draco doesn’t get a wink of sleep. 

The following morning, at breakfast, his father informs him, “Potter's all yours, Draco. Do with him whatever you please. You still have a score to settle with the wretch, do you not?” 

Draco nods slowly, but he can’t swallow another bite. 

* * *

_So this is what a fallen hero looks like,_ Draco thinks as he catches sight of Harry Potter shackled to the wall of the small dungeon cell. 

The young man’s glasses are all skewered and cracked, and the bruises on his face are clearly fresh. 

_Father_, Draco thinks. Horrified, he mutters under his breath, "I can't do this." 

"Is anyone there?" Harry asks in a trembling voice. He sounds scared. Realising this, Draco shudders too, because Harry Potter isn’t _supposed_ to be scared. He never was before; was he? 

Draco doesn't know why he says it, but he does, and when he does, he means every word. "I'm getting you out of here, Potter. Just hang tight. I'll be back as soon as I can." 

"Malfoy?" Harry asks, and Draco's sure he can hear relief in Potter’s voice, or regret or hope or... or... _something_. 

* * *

He must have taken leave of his senses. That's the only explanation Draco has for what he’s about to do. 

Of course, he couldn't kill Dumbledore either, but then, in spite of everything, the old man had never been anything but kind to him. 

Harry Potter, on the other hand, is someone he has fought with for over six years, someone he has envied and despised with every fibre of his being, someone he- 

He doesn't know why he suddenly considers it his duty to help, let alone save, Harry Potter. 

He just _does_, and he hasn't been that certain about anything in a very long time, even if this whole thing is completely illogical, and deep down inside, Draco doesn't doubt people have been carted off to St.Mungo's for a lot less. 

* * *

With his head held high, Draco descends the grubby stairs that lead down to the dungeons. 

The guard nods at him. "Master Malfoy." 

"Leave us," Draco commands with a dismissive wave of his hand, and just as the man’s back is turned, Draco casts the killing curse. He supposes, strictly speaking, that it’s an act of cowardice to hit another man in the back, but mindless bravery is for Gryffindors, and thankfully, he’s not that far gone yet. 

Quickly, he grabs the keys from the worn, old table. 

The lock and dungeon door creak sharply. He's slightly startled, but no more than that. 

He knows his father has other things to worry about at the moment. Certain people are rumoured to be defecting, and Lucius is already on his way to the traitors' mansion in Derbyshire, along with most of the other high-ranking occupants of Malfoy Manor. 

As such, Draco is quite confident that no one will care to come down here tonight. 

"Malfoy?" Harry asks uncertainly. 

"Yes, Potter, it’s me. I'm getting you out." 

Draco can't help but notice that up close, Potter looks frightful and smells even worse, as if the boy's been spending a lot of time in a sewer lately. 

Surprising even himself, Draco isn't put off by either the sight or the stench, however. "Lean on me," he instructs softly. "Once we're outside, I can Apparate you to safety." 

Harry staggers along, holding onto Draco’s arm with all his might. "You... you killed him," he stammers when he can make out the slumped form on the floor. 

"It had to be done. I couldn't afford to leave any witnesses," Draco states matter-of-factly, and he briefly wonders whether he should be proud that he _can_ kill after all, given the right motivation and circumstances. 

They make it to the garden without a hitch. 

"Where can I drop you off, Potter?" Draco asks. 

"I don't-" 

"Any safe houses that spring to mind?" 

"I don't- I- I- can't-" 

"Look, Potter, either you trust me or you don't. Just give me an address. Any address will do. You certainly can't stay here, in case that wasn't already glaringly obvious.” 

Harry takes a deep breath. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, but make sure you Apparate onto the street outside. The place itself is heavily warded. So you won’t get in. You won’t even see it once you get there." 

"Right." 

Draco concentrates, and with a small pop, they are gone. 

* * *

"How's Harry doing?" a concerned Molly Weasley enquires. 

"He’s resting comfortably,” Remus says. “Give him a few more days and he should be back to his old self.” 

“I wonder what the note we found in his pocket is all about,” Ron remarks. 

"It looks like it's enchanted, or possibly in some sort of code," Hermione supplies. 

"Is he talking much?” Molly speaks again. 

Remus frowns. "Well, he did say ‘Malfoy’ a couple of times.” 

“Bloody hell!” Ron seethes. "If that bastard hurt Harry, I'll wring his ruddy neck." 

* * *

It takes Harry two weeks to fully regain his strength, and Hermione exactly sixteen days to decipher what’s written on the piece of parchment. 

It turns out to be an address in Wiltshire. 

That can only mean one thing. 

* * *

The impromptu raid takes everyone by surprise. 

Everyone, that is, except Draco Malfoy. 

Harry discovers his former rival in a room on the second floor, solemnly gazing at the vial of green liquid he's holding in his right hand. 

“Malfoy?” Harry asks, instantly understanding Draco's intentions. “What are you-“ 

"I'd rather die than go to Azkaban, Potter,” Draco says simply. 

“Have you completely lost your marbles?" Harry runs over to Draco, and promptly knocks the vial out of his hand. It falls to the floor and shatters, sending tiny pieces of glass flying in all directions as the deadly poison slowly seeps away. 

"You... You saved me,” Harry blurts out. “And you gave us the location to this place, and you-... You _kissed_ me." 

"Sounds like a momentary lapse of reason on my behalf," Draco offers sarcastically, but Harry's not buying it. He throws his arms around his childhood nemesis and pulls him into a tight, bone-crushing hug. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, I thought I'd never see you again." 

They stand there for what seems like an eternity and yet not nearly long enough, until Remus and Tonks finally burst in, looking more shocked than Harry has ever seen either of them. 

* * *

Moody walks into the room, and starts briefing all present about the final Horcrux hunt. 

Ron listens attentively, as does Hermione. 

Harry stands by the door and watches them, until he goes and joins Draco on the sofa. 

Ron doesn't even begin to understand his best friend’s newfound fondness of the Ferret, but Hermione does. 

Much later, she tells him that it's all about opposites and contrasts and light needing darkness in order to prevail. 

Ron still doesn't get it, but as long as Harry's happy, he supposes he shouldn't interfere. 

* * *

Draco is standing outside by the swings when Harry approaches him. 

"We're going after Voldemort tomorrow." 

"I know," Draco says without flinching. 

"Before I leave, can I ask you a question?" 

"If you must,” Draco answers hesitantly, fervently hoping that Harry won’t mention their kiss again. 

He doesn’t. "Why did you get me out?” he asks instead. “I was under the impression that you didn't want me to win this war." 

Draco gives him a small smile. "Initially, I would have been over the moon to see you lose, Potter. But I guess, in the end, I came to realise that you're really not supposed to." 

Harry hasn't the faintest idea what to say to that, so he keeps quiet. 

"Good luck tomorrow, Potter," Draco says. 

Harry smiles. "Thanks." 

They shake hands and don't exchange another word before the Final Battle. 

* * *

Draco remains at Grimmauld Place and waits. 

He doesn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go with them. 

Except for the fact that he - kind of, sort of - does. 

Moody doesn’t trust him. Mrs.Weasley, who seems to mother - and smother - everyone doesn’t want him to have to face his father. 

While Potter… 

Potter keeps reminding everyone that Malfoy has already contributed more than his fair share. 

And Draco would probably be flattered by the gesture, if he didn't feel so left out. 

* * *

The group doesn't return until the following morning. 

Draco's still in the kitchen, where he stayed the whole time, unable to eat, sleep, or think about anything other than Harry Potter’s wellbeing. 

Once upon a long ago, just imagining this type of scenario would have amused him greatly. 

Like a bolt out of the blue, Tonks barges in. “It’s over," she announces. 

“Where's Po- _Harry_?” Draco asks in a small voice. 

“He's been taken to St.Mungo’s,” she replies and holds up a hand when Draco pales visibly. “He’ll be fine. Nothing they can’t fix.” 

“Thank Merlin,” Draco whispers. 

“Oh, and as for your father-” she goes on, talking very quickly, like she can't get all this over and done with fast enough. 

Draco swallows hard. 

“He’s in Ministry custody." 

Draco lets out a deep breath. “Thank you," he says softly. 

Tonks seems to hesitate, just for a moment, but then she says, “Come on, I’ll take you to Harry. He’s been asking for you.” 

* * *

They sit in the hospital room, quietly chatting about nothing in particular, until Harry announces with a wide smile, “I’m being discharged tomorrow." 

“That’s splendid,” Draco says, unsure what else to say. He looks down at his hands and wonders what the future will bring. He'll have to get on with his life now, won't he? And he won't get to spend as much time with Harry anymore. It's something he'd rather not think about, but he'll have to face the fact sooner or later. Their time together is ending, and he'll miss it; terribly. 

“Would you come away with me?” Harry blurts out. 

“What?" Draco frowns, astonished at the suggestion. "Where are you going?” 

“I don't know." Harry shrugs. "Anywhere you’d like. Preferably as far away from here as possible.” 

“All right." Draco smiles, not bothering to hide his relief. "I might just take you up on that, Potter." 

"Good." Harry grins. "You know," he adds softly, "you never did tell me-” 

Draco swallows the sudden lump in his throat. He already knows what’s coming next and he's left feeling stuck somewhere between happy and scared. “Tell you what?” he asks carefully. 

“Why you kissed me that day.” 

Draco frowns. “Why do you want to know?” 

Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I was just wondering if er- if you were planning on ever kissing me again?” 

Draco smirks. “Ah. Well, that rather depends." 

"On what?" 

"On whether or not you'd like me to, for starters." 

“Actually,” Harry says softly, as a light blush starts to colour his cheeks. "I would, yeah." 

Draco leans down and gently kisses Harry on the lips. “There,” he says. “Happy now, Potter?” 

Grinning from ear to ear, Harry takes Draco’s hand. “I think I'm slowly getting there.”

 

 


End file.
